


Armageddon, Motherfuckers

by frais



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Patrick, Butt Plugs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dubious Science, End of the World, Friends With Benefits, Gangbang, M/M, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Relationship(s), Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 23:31:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5024923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frais/pseuds/frais
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the world was going to end, then Patrick wanted to go out in a (gang)bang. Set 2007.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Armageddon, Motherfuckers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leere/gifts).



> I said I'd write this for Shay ages ago, but I've been a busy bee - Sorry!  
> I also don't think this is exactly the tone you were expecting, but I know you're into Peterick angst so I just winged it. (Also my bias is obvious in who doesn't show up but writer's perk and all that shit ;))  
> Title belongs to Midtown.

It was Pete's idea. It was an old one from way back when Patrick was stuck in a van with him and actually listened to the bullshit that came out of his mouth. They hadn't even broken up for the first time back then.

"I totally, without jealousy, want to know who you'd bang if the world was to end." Patrick at the time had pretended that no one else would ever be good enough for him because he had Pete and that was enough for both of them. Patrick had a faithful friend in ignorance and it got him far with regards to their relationship.

Then in 2006, when the bubble had completely burst in Patrick's face and he one hundred percent was...n't exactly _over_ Pete, but was hugely pissed off with him, he handed his list to Pete on the back of a crumpled receipt. He did it in his neatest writing and didn't title it. Pete would know what it was about.

"Wait," Pete said, finding Patrick later in the day and waving the now well-read list in his hand. "These are all dudes from my record label."

Patrick nodded serenely. "Well, if I'm gonna get gangbanged, I wanna know who they are."

"No surprises?" Pete's hair looked especially greasy that day, slicked down and trailing into one eye. He could go fuck himself, that's what Patrick would say if he suggested they fool around. Patrick would watch maybe, but he definitely wouldn't join in.

"I hate surprises," Patrick said with absolute honesty. The list was pretty long and his ears burned. "No Joe or Andy, because hypothetically, if the world was to end, that would be too close to home."

"We've fucked," Pete said, as if it wasn't obvious to everyone on the planet, or at least their tour crew. Not currently, never again, though only because Pete said so. It was a pattern they'd repeated time and again. "You'd bottom to everyone on here. Those were the original rules, remember?"

"There are no rules when the world ends." Patrick was doing well, breathing deep and not resorting to violence. This was the longest conversation he'd had with Pete in two weeks. "But I mean, if the world's gonna end I'm not gonna be in pain, am I? Fuck it. I’ll bottom to everyone on it _and some_."

"Reasoning as sublime as ever, Patty," Pete said, and up came the defensive wall again. Feelings shut off on both sides. Patrick could’ve said something about how it was all completely hypothetical. The world was a piece of shit, but it'd been that way for eons and it was hardly gonna end now. His chest had started to ache though, as Pete checked out of the conversation. He just swallowed and walked away, letting Pete deal with his shit on his own.

 

No one believed the news when it first started. Mostly because it started the same as every other time. Hit the weird or the vulnerable with news that the world's ending and watch them give up their houses and freedom in a bid for salvation. Patrick was too busy with his music to notice much at all, but then, like, politicians got involved and the Pope passed comment and shit kinda got real.

"How do we know specifically the world will end next Thursday?" Patrick said, because that's the date they'd been given. It was in Scripture supposedly, but Patrick figured if you looked hard enough you'd find most dates in the bible.

"Just go with it, Patrick. No point in arguing." Andy was nearly always the voice of reason; the calm in the storm. He still was, but there was no calming a shitstorm like this and he’d given up weeks ago.

"Gabe's throwing a party to celebrate. At my house, you’re all invited," Pete interrupted. He was cheery, it was fake, but it made them all pretend a little harder too.

"I feel like celebrate is the wrong adjective," Andy pointed out, to which Patrick nodded in agreement. Mostly, he was remembering the list he gave Pete at the beginning of last year. It was not something he thought would bite him in the ass so hard.

"You know, there's still a few days to add some names to the list," Pete said to Patrick that night. Even though Patrick told himself he wouldn't, he still found himself caught up in Pete's back room; sore heart, sore jaw. Technically, Pete was single and Patrick had always been his rebound. He couldn’t blame youth by this point, when it was something he continually involved himself with. It wasn’t like Pete forced him at any point in their relationship. Patrick was a willing participant through it all.

"I don't want anyone else," Patrick said, and then frowned, because that came out wrong and the last thing he wanted was Pete construing it to mean something other than what it was. "You know what I meant. Plus, you're working on the basis that all those people on the list would be up for it with me."

Pete laughed, there was a sadness to it, even as he kept his back to Patrick, pulling his pants up in the dark. "They all adore you, asshole. We all do." Patrick's fingers got caught in his own sweat-wet hair as he ignored Pete's words. They'd started to talk in the subconscious again and that was never a good thing.

"Even though we're all gonna be dead in a week I started working on some new songs," Patrick said, breaking away from the shit they'd started. He was dressed anyway; it was only his mouth he'd been using minutes before, didn't need to get naked for that. Pete's hesitance turned to a fake smile as he snapped his light on, godawful eye makeup smeared beneath his eyes. Spite kept Patrick from telling him to wipe it off, and he patted his pockets down for his usb stick. "Give me your laptop and I'll show you what I got."

Patrick and Pete wrote three songs before the Wednesday night of Pete’s house party. Technically it was Gabe's party, but Pete had the best digs so he was hosting. Neither Andy or Joe had shown up, but Patrick had cried down the phone to Trohman the night before, trying to work out the words to say. Neither of them were great at speaking really, so they both cried until Joe's little brother could be heard through the speaker and Joe hung up.

Patrick kinda figured it probably wasn’t going to happen, the whole gangbang thing. It was an old discussion he'd had with Pete years ago, that he'd only reignited last year in a betrayed spite. He never planned on sleeping with all those dudes, just wanted to prove to Pete that he could, in fact, think of a ton of other guys he'd want to screw instead of him. Pete bought lube though, a fuckton of it.

"Weird cause there was a ton of looting going on and there I was waiting in line with a basket of lube and rubbers for you," Pete said cheerily, dumping the bag on the table. "Why loot when you're about to meet your maker though?"

"Shut up about that," Patrick said, because he couldn’t think of that. He couldn’t think of a God he didn’t believe in actually existing or never seeing his mom or dad again, Megan or Kevin. "How much do I owe you for this?"

"Nothing," Pete said. He fell in a sweaty pile against Patrick's shoulder. "You best be with me on the other side, Stump. I couldn't bear any kinda life without you."

"I know." Patrick's tongue froze against the rest of what he was going to say. Instead he cozied up to Pete, his body soft and chubby against the scrawniness of his friend.

Gabe, no matter what the situation, was in full spirits as the party kicked into gear that night. Patrick had a lot of love for him, platonic or otherwise. He was hot and he was top of Patrick's list. But, he had a party to work first and that pretty much meant he’d end up being dessert for Patrick.

"See ya later, Stump!" The wink was hardly impressive to Patrick, but he'd always wanted to try things out with Saporta and he only had one chance left.

"Did you, like, tell people they were gonna bang me?" Patrick found Pete in loud spirits with sad eyes. When he shrugged and then nodded in defeat, Patrick simply shrugged and then nodded in defeat back. "Good. ‘Least I haven't got to try and seduce anyone."

"Your seductive wiles remain hidden for now, kid," Pete said, leaning forward to suck a wet kiss onto Patrick's cheek. It hit his sideburn and Patrick rubbed furiously in a limp defense as he watched his friend skip away.

Second on Patrick's list was Travie who was already there, chilling in a room with his bandmates. Patrick straightened his button-down, frowning at how it puckered over his chest. A snug fit was a good fit when you're looking for sex, Patrick told himself, rearranging the hat on his head before sauntering into the room Travie was in. As if by sheer coincidence, the three other guys made moves to leave. Patrick loved them to death, but he didn't want to fuck them and they seemed aware enough to close the door behind them.

"Great party," Patrick said, terrible as ever at small talk. He smiled a little at Travie and took a seat beside him. Travie's height should've been intimidating, but there's nothing about McCoy Patrick had ever found threatening.

"We don't got time for that shit, Stump. You've got a list of people to get through, right?" Trave said and when Patrick looked at him in shock, he shrugged. "Pete explained it all in the email. We all got one. You probably did too, if you actually looked."

"True." Patrick conceded the point. Impending death did seem like a good excuse as any to not check his email though. "I don't... are you sure you want me?"

"Come here." Travie patted his lap. Patrick could easily have swooned. He always liked a tall guy, despite how often he fell back to Pete and his short ass.

Patrick sat down in Travie's lap, trying to forget the weirdness because this wasn't smooth in any way, but then he felt a giant hand on his back and it had him leaning into his friend's gentle touch.

"We should warm you up with some kissing, right?" Travie smirked, Patrick could sense it even if he was too busy looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching. In other circumstances he'd hate anyone walking in, but he, Patrick Stump, was sitting in Travie McCoy's lap and that was fucking amazing.

"Kissing, right, yeah," Patrick said, turning so that he was straddling McCoy's lap. He even had to stretch a little, so as to reach Travie’s mouth. It was hot enough that Patrick hated himself for never hooking up with taller guys in the past.

Patrick had always been a demanding kisser. He wanted tongue and teeth, and he liked a hand in the hair dropping from beneath his hat. The fact Travie knew this, and had a hand that splayed fingers from either side of his neck, was awesome. Patrick crawled forward, knees sliding to the narrow space either side of McCoy's hips.

This almost made up for the fact that Patrick wouldn't ever get around to working with Travie again. He wanted to do another album with him, wanted to boss him around some more in the studio. It sucked, but at least Patrick was gonna get fucked.

"Your fuzz irritates," Patrick whined, rolling his hips down and pushing his fingers against Travie’s sad stubble. If they weren't facing impending death, Patrick would wish that this would be a permanent thing. He'd been a huge fucking fool pinning all his hopes on Pete, who for all his attempts, just couldn't commit. Patrick should've scheduled this whole gangbang thing way before the end of the world. 

"You're lost in your own planet, Patrick," Travie said, finger tapping Patrick's temple. It was true, Patrick was always stuck in his head, he shook it from side to side, trying to shake the thoughts away.

"You think we should find a room? " Patrick asked. He wasn't all that shy with Travie, but he was never going to be an exhibitionist and he wanted some privacy.

Travie looked comfortable enough sprawled out on the couch, but he put his hands to Patrick's hips and shifted him over. Patrick was not easily moved under normal circumstances, something he’d always appreciated, but he let Travie get away with it, hopping up and following him out of the room.

It was a packed party that seemed more like a tour party. Patrick didn’t normally hang out with so many musicians on his downtime, but he nodded his head to every familiar face he saw, fingers caught up with Travie until they were in one of Pete's guest bedrooms. Patrick hadn't stayed in this one; it was either Pete's bed or none at all. Currently none at all, but he didn't even care this time around.

Patrick laid back on the bed, hat crooked, his shirt button popped open at the tightest point, as Travie crawled over him. It was nice to be in a situation with such a hot guy. Patrick was far from used to it.

"Always wondered how you'd feel." It was a clear lie, though Patrick wasn’t complaining. Travie’s hands slid under his clothes, neat fingernails pressed to the gentle softness of Patrick's hips.

They made out awkwardly for a time. Awkward because of the height difference and Travie was bony and resting his weight painfully on Patrick, but he didn't want to say anything so just opened his mouth for a slick tongue again. Travie was sly. Patrick was so into making out with him, hands on his shoulders, that he almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand sneak against the already open fly of his jeans.

"Try’na get to the good stuff now," Patrick hissed, as fingers started to stroke him. He'd been semi erect for a while, apprehensive and excited about what was going to happen that night. He shimmered out of his jeans as quickly as he could, his dick curving up under his shirt. Travie pulled him back onto the bed and Patrick bounced back, hissing as he arched his back, spreading his legs wide.

"You think Pete left some treats for us?" Travie asked, pulling at the nightstand. Patrick was fairly sure Pete filled all the bedrooms with enough supplies for the whole house. Travie threw a strip of condoms and a sealed bottle of lube onto the bed.

"Get yourself slicked up," Patrick said, as he reached between his legs. He'd known that it'd be a lot for him, who bottomed regularly for Pete, to suddenly up the ante and start banging a slew of people in one night. He’d let Pete watch him that afternoon, as he stretched out on the bed and fingered himself, before pushing a smooth, dark plug into his ass. Patrick had been breathless at first, ready to tell Pete to get on the bed and fuck Patrick's mouth for a while before he grew some composure and remembered that he got dumped again three weeks back because Pete wanted to bang some new actress he’d met.

Travie watched Patrick with dark eyes, one hand moving to push at Patrick's leg, so that he was looking directly between his legs. It wasn't subtle and Patrick grew red under his watch.

"Gonna fuck me or am I to just lay here?" Patrick asked, because nerves had him wanting to just get it over with. He wanted to get fucked hard by as many people that wanted him before they were all taken out. Travie twiddled one finger in the air and Patrick did as he was told, rolling onto his hands and knees, ass up as he stretched like a cat; a plump cat, but he heard the soft murmur from behind him so he didn’t care

Patrick always liked it on his hands and knees. A good position to let Pete fuck him if he couldn't bear to look at his face; a good way to get it deep and hard and imagine whoever he wanted. Patrick cried out at the force and feel of Travie sliding in. He was bigger than Pete, bigger than what the plug had stretched him to. Still, he pushed back, until his ass was pressed to the narrow width of Travie's hips, his cock snug inside Patrick.

Travie didn't move much and when Patrick asked him to, he simply spanked the side of Patrick's thigh and told him to do the work. Patrick nearly lost it at that, clenching tight as he steadied himself onto his elbows and started the slow movement of rocking his hips back and forward. Travie was so tight inside him, so slick with lube that the movement wasn't hard, Patrick moved up and down, until just the cockhead remained inside. He gave a tight squeeze, and then slid back down the length again.

Travie took charge after a while. It was too intense for Patrick, but he liked the feel of Travie's large hands sinking into his waist and dragging and pulling him onto his cock. The bed squeaked and Patrick's knees were stiff, but all he could feel was the cock stuffed tight in his asshole, sinking deeper and deeper until...

"Well, I was gonna wait till later." Patrick lifted his head from the sheets, hat off and hair sticking to his forehead. William was there, hair falling over his shoulders as he watched from the doorway.

"Bill, get your ass here!" Travie smirked, Patrick could feel his balls against his ass as William strolled over. The atmosphere had already changed and Patrick tried to blink away the heaviness that had taken over his head.

"Two birds one Stump?" William smirked, hips pushed out. He smelled of smoke, his hard stomach against Patrick's cheek as he leaned over. Patrick heard the sound of them kissing, William's hand resting on his shoulder, as Travie slowly rocked inside Patrick. As the kissing continued Travie's thrusts lessened to the point that Patrick mostly felt like a cock sock. Patrick waited to be remembered and when that didn't work, he pulled himself forward so that Travie slipped out.

"You guys have your thing, I get that, but I'm not a fucking sex toy to spice your shit up with," Patrick said, finding it far easier to shout down old friends about it than a man he's been in love with for the past five years. Sort of stupid, really. William gave an apologetic look as Travie held his hands up in surrender. Patrick just really wanted to get fucked though, so he didn't hold it against them and simply pulled William in for a rough kiss.

William was both too thin and too pretty for Patrick's liking really, though he'd always been a nice guy. Patrick opened his mouth and William was slick enough to shove his tongue in inside. There was nothing elegant about it, something that surprised Patrick. Bill seemed in control though, and Patrick was willing to let him take the lead.

"Goddamn, this is hot." Travie’s hand was pressed up against Patrick's spine, his thumb rubbing in gently circles, sliding down between Patricks cheeks. William was forcing himself over Patrick, straddling his lap, though still forcefully kissing him. Patrick wasn't naturally submissive, tried to back up against anyone that tried to put him down, but William was oozing a strange commanding confidence and Patrick was just happy to let him lead.

William got off him after a few minutes and Patrick took it as his opportunity to sit against Travie with open legs for William. He watched Beckett's eyebrows raise at the movement, but Patrick didn't care, he'd be dead in a few hours; it took care of the embarrassment.

"Never thought this would be a thing I'd get," William said, and Patrick winced, hoping this wasn't going to turn into a talking session. Patrick didn't really like much talking during sex, wasn't good at multitasking.  
He felt himself up, sliding fingers around the base of his cock and fisting his cock lightly. Williams eyeline fell past that, to Patrick's asshole, pink and stretched, glistening with lube. Patrick guessed he looked desperate to get fucked, with his ass on show like that.

Travie was starting to fuss behind him, enough so that William clocked on and started to shimmy out of his pants. Patrick had half a second of panic, where he wondered if he was going to get tossed aside for the two of them to fuck. Then he felt Travie’s hand over his stomach, sliding down. Patrick squeezed his cock in his hand, but the large hand gently pushed down past his balls, two fingers sliding inside him. Patrick tightened around him, gasping and shocked. William was staring with dark eyes and Travie's cock was hot and hard behind Patrick.

"You gonna share, Travis?" William asked and his voice dipped low, Patrick watched the jig of his Adam's apple. His hands were thin and delicate as they skirted Patrick's jaw and then further down.

William’s cock was directly in Patrick's eyeline and while Patrick hadn't ever really thought about it, he was pretty big. Pete had a lot of big dicks signed to his label, Patrick would have to mention it before they died, just to spark another edge of jealousy.

Patrick was in a weird trance for a moment, shaken from it when Travie's fingers shifted. Then the head of his cock was being pushed inside again. Patrick let it happen, watching the rise and fall of his stomach, his buttons so close to popping over his chest. William was sliding his hands all over Patrick's body, forcing him to take Travie's cock with hands on his hips. When Patrick was fully impaled he spread his legs and curled a fist over his cock. He wasn't sure how Bill was planning to get involved, but Patrick started to shift back and forward, the position awkward with his thighs resting over McCoy's bent knees.

William went down with a smirk, pushing his hair out of his face before he shoved Patrick's hand away and nudged his cock with his nose. His eyes were dark and playful as he opened his thin lips and slid down in a sly roll, warm tongue curling against the head of Patrick's dick, before smoothing down as he engulfed him. Patrick was a mess, sweaty and hard, clenching around McCoy, who was grunting and squeezing at Patrick's chest, trying to rock his hips with Patrick's weight on him. Patrick fed fingers through William's dark hair, trying to guide him as he lifted up and down. He was precise and neat, not sloppy enough for what Patrick liked, but Patrick shouted out when William's rough thumbnail slid down past his balls and pressed where Patrick was stretched around Travie's girth.

"You a dirty boy, Patrick? Cause I am," William said when he lifted from Patrick's cock. He left it red and slick, as much as his lips were, but Patrick didn't have time to think of it when William was inching back further, pushing Patrick's legs closer to his shoulders. Patrick wasn't particularly flexible, but it didn't matter when William was breathing hot and wet over his stretched out asshole, circling a finger near Travie's cock.

Patrick couldn't tell from his own position, but he guessed he was pretty red from the stretching. It wasn't exactly comfortable, even when the orgasm was building nicely in his stomach.

"Pretty... Pretty sight," William said, but then he ducked down and sucked his tongue around what he could reach of Travie's cock and Patrick's pink rim. Patrick hooked his legs over Beckett's shoulders, digging his heels in at the sensation. Travie was twisting Patrick's jaw and turning his face up so they could meet in a sweaty kiss. It was sensation overload.

Patrick was turned on, from the hard cock in his ass, to the tongue circling and pushing in beside it, to the fingers keeping him open, to the tongue in his mouth. He came first, catching some shaking fingers around his cock and pushing his thumb against the head as his mind clouded over and he came in a shout.

Travie was next, still inside Patrick and squeezing at his chest. It was a little weird for Patrick, though he kept quiet. Patrick rolled off him, falling onto William, who wasn't so easily crushed that he didn't smirk and grab at Patrick's ass, ignoring Travie sprawled and recovering next to them.

"I'd probably let you fuck me," William said casually. "But that was banned in the email and I don't think you're up to it just yet."

"Not really," Patrick admitted. He had a hard time with his stamina during topping anyway. He was okay at it, but he was naturally lazy and preferred to just open his legs and let Pete at him. "My mouth hasn't had much action though."

"Perfect." William smiled and kissed Patrick's cheek, fingers stroking lightly through Patrick's fuzzy sideburn. "Push against McCoy, so he's spooning you."

Patrick did as he was told, hating that he went with it without question. Travie was almost out of it, but Patrick rolled against him, confused until William was sitting up by the pillows, holding his heavy cock in his hands. Travie woke up enough to slide an arm over Patrick's chest, holding him in place. It seemed overly casual, like Patrick was another random person in another random threesome for them. Patrick opened his mouth, but didn't think much else to it.

Patrick had sucked a variety of cocks over the years. Joe's when they were teenagers and another when he'd been fifteen and experimenting terribly. He was good, in that he had a mouth that people liked to call pretty. Soft lips, not too thick but shaped and curved in the middle. Pete sometimes would rest his cock on Patrick's bottom lip and wait for him to beg for it before pushing in. Patrick wasn’t known for being a beggar, but there was a desperation with Pete sometimes; it had nothing to do with the sex, but everything to do with the shit that followed it.

From his position tucked up against Travie, and with William keeping a careful hand against Patrick’s jaw, he really didn’t have to do much. He could hear the slick sound of his mouth being used, but William was louder, and Patrick just focused on breathing through his nose and letting William’s dripping cock slide against his tongue. A few times he hit the back of Patrick’s throat, catching him off guard, but then he was pressing his thumb into Patrick’s jaw and that was a different type of pain. Patrick could have done with a warning, but a hard cock throbbing in his mouth was enough and he simply let William fill his mouth up as he came, letting it dribble from between his lips for show.

Patrick let William clean his mouth up afterward, wrinkling his nose up at the peck on the nose he got after, like a well-behaved dog. He watched as William fluttered around the room spritely after having his cock sucked. Patrick had wiped at his mouth and moved away from the spilled jizz near his cheek, but had no plans to actually move.

Patrick watched the two of them leave, batting away any sweetness they tried to send his way. Patrick was a sentimental fool, but he couldn't let himself get caught up with their shit. He wouldn't see them again, but at least he could still _feel_ them.

Patrick cleaned his face up in the bathroom attached to the bedroom, pulling his jeans back on. The tightest stretch of his shirt no longer had a button to hold it together, so he had to put up with a little too much chest showing. His lips were swollen too, and he sucked them into his mouth as he shut the light off.

Patrick left the bedroom, feeling out of sorts. He didn't know what it was like to be on drugs seriously, but he felt like he’d taken a hit of something. The atmosphere was weird, like they were all playing out the same party that Pete had thrown a billion times over, but there was a nervous edge as Patrick pushed past people, ignoring the smirks and winks he got as he passed.

Patrick grabbed a bottle of water from Pete's kitchen, sipping it slowly. His gangbang had sort of stopped already. He didn't want everyone at once, but he also didn't want to be the one seeking others out. He'd known who was on the mail list, but he wouldn't know if they'd really be up for it.

"You look stuck in your head." Patrick jumped at the voice, turning to see Butch Walker standing there. He was out of place; not known at Pete's parties. He'd been on Patrick’s list, with a very tiny question mark next to his name. Patrick wasn't sure at all. He was a lot older and Patrick only knew him professionally.

"You willing to spend your last night on earth at Pete and Gabe's house party?" Patrick joked, trying to keep his cool and not fluster. He stroked a nervous hand through the ends of his hair, watching Butch's eyes stare down at the opening of Patrick's shirt.

"I'm not here for Pete," Butch said, and Patrick looked away, heart thudding quickly. "Plus, I think it's bullshit, the whole world ending."

"I hope so, I really wanna work with you again. Like, on a full record, maybe." Patrick looked up from beneath his eyelashes, blinking too much to be cute, but Butch was smirking.

"I was _not_ expecting that email, boy. But you want me, huh? Want me to fuck you stupid?" Butch leaned closer, a hand on Patrick's cheeks. He turned so that the nails dug in slightly, pressing against Patrick's skin like sharp daggers.

"Only if you're interested," Patrick shrugged, but his dick was already twitching again and all thought of his most recent threesome was flying out of his brain.

Butch held out a hand, dropping it from Patrick's face and started to leave the kitchen. Patrick followed after him, bumping into people and waving a quick apologetic hand in response. They didn't end up in Patrick's favored guest bedroom, but an unused room with a table pushed to the farthest wall and a bunch of unpacked boxes.

"I hope you're not looking for romance, Patrick?" Butch questioned and Patrick shook his head immediately. He hadn't looked for romance since after the first time Pete left. Romance was not something he'd ever get so there was no point in searching for it.

Instead, he stumbled over to Butch when he wagged his finger and clumsily leaned in for a kiss. Patrick felt so much younger with him, more so than he ever did with Pete.

Butch was a dirty kisser, not smooth and slick like William, or lazy like Travis. He bit down on Patrick's bottom lip and held him roughly with a hand wrapped around the back of his neck. Patrick was willing to just drop to his knees and let Butch fuck his mouth, but then Walker was pulling away and pinching Patrick's chin in his hand.

"Go bend over that table for me. I don't have time to fuck around, and remember, neither of us want romance." Butch looked away, rough voice stopping, but Patrick liked it from him, wanted it like that at least once and so he nodded and stumbled away. His hands shook nervously when he tugged at his pants, but he liked the feel of cool wood against his heated cheek as he bent over the table. He was pressed head to stomach against the table, his ass cold in the room, presented easily to Butch.

"What a pretty sight," Butch said and then his hand fell in a loud spank against Patrick's cheek. Patrick jolted as his hips sunk into the edge of the table. He pressed his palms to the wood, mouth sliding open as Butch spanked him again. "Show me you want it."

Patrick wasn't sure how to show it without begging. In the end he arched his back and wiggled his ass from side to side, sighing softly beneath his staggered breath. That seemed to do it, Butch made an appreciated noise and touched his hands to Patrick's ass, thumbs folding into Patrick's cleft. Patrick was nervous, this felt like a weird roleplay. He didn't want to fuck it up.

"Looks like someone got to you first," Butch said, as his thumbs parted Patrick's ass. Patrick felt the rush of cool air to his ass, and he clenched up, receiving a rough squeeze from Butch for doing so. "I don't have lube, you best be able to take it."

"I can," Patrick said. He was stretched already, from the plug’s work in the day to having Travie and William play with him earlier. He took a chance, and removed one of his own hands from the side of his head, to push it backwards. He crossed his fingers as he pushed them into his slick asshole. "See, I can take it."

"Good boy." Butch was smirking, as Patrick fingered himself for a little longer before sliding them out slowly and resting his hands on the wood again. Patrick shut his eyes as he heard the sound of Butch spitting, slicking his cock up. Patrick hadn't even got a look at it, he wondered how well it measured up, but then Butch was roughly pushing Patrick's legs apart and his cock was nudging between Patrick's cheeks. Patrick breathed out slowly as Butch pushed in. It was rough, and he groaned against the table as he was forced to take Butch's cock in his tight ass. Butch spanked him again, grunting when it made Patrick cry out harder, but then he was bending over Patrick on the table, hands covering Patrick's until their fingers were interlocked and his mouth was pressed to Patrick's ear.

"Wouldn't mind your slick asshole wrapped around me anytime of the day," he said, biting down on Patrick's lobe and giving a rough fuck of his hips. Patrick's cool had been completely lost as he was pressed down into the table. God, he'd let Butch do absolutely anything to him right now. "I'd film you bouncing on my cock in the studio, make you take it in the car back to my place. Tie you up to my bed, legs apart and ready for me whenever I wanted you. Like that? Like the sound of that?"

Patrick nodded, even though he was barely listening. Patrick could hardly think about trading producing advice for sex when there was a man pressed against his back, fucking him so good into the table. Patrick had no way to touch his cock, which was pressed to the underside of the table, and he just squirmed against the friction. One of Butch's hands moved from covering his knuckles to push Patrick's hat off and tug at his hair, pulling him back so that both his ass and his head were in the air.

"What a fucking sight," Butch snarled, and he was so fucking rough that Patrick cried out. He didn't want it to stop, but he was overwhelmed and he could barely breathe, let alone think about coming. There was another grunt, but then Patrick's hair was released and he was falling onto the table again. Patrick was shaking, clenching around nothing when Butch quickly pulled out. Patrick twisted his head to see Butch pumping his cock a few times before he came all over Patrick's bare ass. Patrick shut his eyes at the sight, turned on enough that he couldn't do anything but quickly push one of his hands beneath the table and grab his cock. It didn't take long, thoughts to the way that Butch just came all over Patrick's sloppy ass was enough to have Patrick coming quick and dirty all over the floor.

"That was...wow...fucking awesome," Patrick said, when he finally had his speech back. He pushed away from the desk on wobbly legs and stared down in surprise at how bruised his hips and thighs had gotten. When he got no response from Butch, he looked around to see that he'd already been ditched in the room alone. Patrick wanted to be mad, but...Butch was a busy guy and it was bound to get awkward if he stayed longer. He didn't want romance after all.

Patrick didn't stay in the room long, long enough to wipe his ass off and pull his jeans up. Long enough to wipe with a dust cloth at where he came because Patrick wasn't that rude of a houseguest – even to Pete – but then he was leaving the room, ready to find his next man.

Alex DeLeon was there, sitting alone on the back porch smoking, which Patrick found kind of weird. It was even weirder because not three minutes after saying his usual hello, Patrick was falling onto his knees and sucking his dick. Finally a smaller dick, something that Patrick could take without hurting his jaw completely. Patrick pulled off before Alex could come in his mouth, he wasn't one for swallowing, hated it. He jacked him off instead, face pressed to the musky scent of Alex's crotch as he came between Patrick's fingers. He was probably the kind of guy that would want to see Patrick suck his fingers clean, but as Patrick barely knew the guy he wasn't going to give in, and simply wiped his hand in DeLeon's shirt before getting up from his knees and walking away.

Patrick was planning to wash up a bit in his guest bedroom, the one with the threesome, because he was a little uneasy now, that Butch hadn’t used a condom. He pulled out, but Patrick felt gross and kind of slick and wet in his boxers and he wanted to be comfortable. He wasn’t sure who else would want him. Gabe, for sure, but who knew what state he’d be in by the time he’d finished partying.

Patrick cleaned up slowly. Already he was feeling the affects, and he wouldn't have minded snuggling up in bed with Pete and losing his last moments with him.

"Oh." Patrick jolted when he saw Jon Walker sitting nervously on the bed. Patrick leaned against the doorframe. He'd been in a threesome and roughly fucked by Butch fucking Walker. Patrick could handle Jon.

"I didn't think I'd be on anyone's fuck list, you know, if you're picking from my band." Jon was nervous, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. Patrick laughed and walked over to him.

"You really think I'd be interested in anyone else in Panic like that?" Patrick wanted to laugh, he was not Pete, whose interest in teenagers unfortunately didn't end with Patrick. None of them were teens now, but Patrick still saw them as such.

"Guess I didn't think about it," Jon shrugged. He had nice eyes, dark and warm and Patrick liked staring into them. As often as their bands crossed each other, Patrick hadn't spent all that much time with Jon.

"You didn't come here to chat," Patrick said, because they were going to die soon and he didn't want to waste time. He put a hand on Jon's knee and squeezed. "You were on the list for a reason, dude."

"Yeah, that's awesome." Jon winced, but Patrick just stroked his cheek. He had stubble and it caught on his rough fingertips. Jon leaned into his touch, and Patrick was quickly aware that he was going to have to take the lead in this. He was looking forward to it. He wasn't as placid as the night's events had suggested.

Patrick leaned in for a kiss, hand sliding into Jon's hair. It wasn't great, Jon was nervous and it showed, but Patrick persevered.

He pushed Jon down, hand sliding beneath his thin dark t-shirt to warm skin. He had a surprising amount of fuzz on his stomach and it was a nice change.

"What do you want, Jon?" Patrick wondered if he'd ever seduced anyone before. Probably not.

"To not lose it too soon," Jon admitted. Patrick wasn't sure if he could lose it at all right now after an already active night, but he appreciated the honesty. Patrick laughed into his chest, one hand palming Jon through his chinos.

Patrick could feel this was gonna be a short ride, but he could do with a break anyway. Jon was sweet but for some reason, terrified.

"If I suck you off are you gonna come? " Patrick asked and Jon pulled an awkward face, but nodded. "Okay."

Patrick kissed him quickly, leaving a soft one against his chin. Patrick's mom would love him to bring Jon home, maybe he'd have taken him to her house if things had been different. Patrick's head was full of useless what ifs, but it kept him from everything else.

"Never fucked another guy before. You're cute too, so I'm just nervous," Jon admitted again, his apprehension having him spill it all. Patrick held him, still sprawled over him. That was a pretty cool compliment. usually _'you're cute'_ came with a _'but...'._

"Guess we better get to it." Patrick could've been sexier, if he considered himself a sexy person, but he just took his pants off again and pulled open the end table, throwing a condom at Jon. Patrick pumped lube onto his fingers and pressed behind himself. It was... sore. 

Patrick pulled his fingers out and stared at Jon's awed reaction. It was sweet and he covered his face with his hands, too shy himself to do anything about it.

"Okay, fuck it dude. Let's just... " Patrick showed his face again and waggled his finger at Jon in his tented pants." Get those off and get yourself wrapped."

Patrick watched Jon, who was so frantic in taking his pants off that Patrick nearly got a knee in the face. When he was free of his constraints Patrick took a mental note, bigger than Alex, smaller than the rest. Not small though.

Patrick helped him with the condom, holding him tight at the base, aware that he felt really really close to coming. He smoothed the condom down, and kissed his shoulder, trying to soothe him.

Patrick let go and watched Jon carefully, making sure he was composed before they went further. He crawled over Jon and even though he was only half-hard, the butterflies were building in his stomach.

"Oh God, I can't believe this," Jon stammered, biting his lips and grabbing at Patrick's hip, his other hand still holding tight to his dick as Patrick hovered over him. It wasn't much of a push to get Jon's dick into his ass and Patrick didn't have the strength to hold his weight up either and simply slid down.

Jon felt pretty small beneath him and Patrick felt heavy and awkward, but he still tried to go for it, pinning Jon's wrists in his hands over his lap, rocking back and forth.

"This is, of my god, you're tight. This is... " Jon stilled his movements, and then, by the look of his face, came. Patrick wasn't upset because he wasn't hard at all by this point, but it was pretty embarrassing on Jon's end.

"I could tell you a ton of stories about Pete blowing his load early," Patrick said, falling from Jon and onto his back. He was tingly and sweaty and Jon was pouting furiously up at the ceiling, dick limp and spent between his legs. "Come on. It wasn't that bad."

"That was my last fuck on this earth and I lose it like that." Jon's hands were shaking at his sides and Patrick just patted him gently, ignoring the weird constant throbbing of his ass.

"There's, like, a room of horny dudes downstairs, go fuck one of those and change it, then," Patrick said. "You got it inside before you came."

"I guess, but uh. I think I'll go, before this gets any more awkward. But I really am sorry, like shit. I blew my load early with Patrick Stump." Jon was waffling as he tugged his pants on, but Patrick was only half listening, shutting his eyes and trying to soothe his sore body, even as the door slammed shut behind Jon.

Patrick caught himself a small nap, but then he was restless and ready for more. He missed Pete, weirdly, even when he was trying to be mad at him. He wanted everyone else to leave so they could have one last night together.

"Too old for this shit," Patrick said to himself. Twenty-three and too old for getting gangbanged like that. He needed to eat too.

Patrick stomped out of the room, less spritely than previous times. He had half a mind to seek Pete out but... He couldn't be _that_ desperate. He took his mind off it by shoving his hand into a bowl of popcorn on the side and eating it grumpily, catching Jon looking miserable in the corner. 

Patrick couldn't find Pete, something he decided to take as a sign that he should stay away. He did see the Butcher though and well, Patrick had him on his list too. He'd decided no more ass play for a while, but he took him into an empty bathroom and sucked him off. He snuck a finger behind his balls - something Pete liked - and ended up with a chin smothered in jizz. It was okay.

After the Butcher, there was Sisky, who was fun but rough and Patrick decided to shut up shop in regards to his mouth.

Then he came across Nate, smiling from behind a bottle of beer and almost toppling Patrick over from behind as he jumped on his back.

"Yo Stump! We getting down and dirty or what? " Patrick was not used to men jumping on his back and simply stood still until Nate slid back to his own feet. He did smile, one more fuck before Gabe and then he'd call it quits. Nate would do fine. It wasn't that Nate was an afterthought, he was simply someone that Patrick found attractive, but hadn't put much thought in. It might have been the nose ring.

It was _definitely_ the nose ring, he came to the realization as he laid back with Nate's weight resting over him. It was even worse than Jon.

"I'm just gonna you know." Nate lifted up from Patrick's neck to wiggle his fingers. They slid in pretty easy, even as Patrick tightened with oversensitivity. Nate jabbed for a while, like he was missing something before he kissed Patrick again. Their teeth clattered and Patrick's lip got a nasty nip.

"This is fucking weird," Patrick said, glad when Nate immediately pulled his fingers free and fell on his back. Neither were hard, Patrick was glad it was mutual on both parts.

"I'm so glad you said that," Nate laughed. "I didn't wanna let you down because of, like, impending doom, but it was pretty bad. Sorry."

"I've had my fill, don't worry." Patrick patted Nate's hair, like he was an apologetic dog snooping for sympathy. It was embarrassment over anything else that had Nate leaving with a hunched stature. Patrick was fine with it. Two duffs out of six wasn’t bad... or was it seven? Should Patrick even _count_ blow jobs?

Patrick was waiting and waiting on Gabe. He'd given up hope after a while because the king of partying was a really hard dude to catch a hold of. Patrick wandered around the house, ignoring eye contact with anyone whose body parts he'd had inside him that night, it was becoming a hard feat the longer he walked around.

Patrick rubbed at his jaw, watching the body shots taking place in the kitchen. He tried to imagine himself being the one sprawled out on the table instead of Sisky, but that made him choke on the water in his mouth, and he only just recovered in time to see Gabe smirking at him.

"Is water the only thing you plan on choking on?" he asked, smooth as anything, but not enough to get Patrick swooning.

"You know you're last right? You are getting, like, seriously sloppy seconds." Patrick wasn't saying it to belittle himself, only to let Gabe in on the fact that he lost his place as second on Patrick's list.

"Sloppy seconds are the fucking raddest," Gabe said, arm falling tight to Patrick's shoulders. "So how many has it been?"

"We'll, not like a world record, but a lot for me. I'm so glad we're all going to die, just so I don't have to face you guys again," Patrick admitted. "I don't think I'd ever live getting gangbanged down."

"No? I'm kinda hoping reincarnation is a thing, you know? Imagine me, Gabe, as a peacock." He wiggled his eyebrows and Patrick couldn't help but laugh.

They made it back to the guest bedroom Patrick had spent most of the night in. It was clearly a known fact that the Stump Gangbang was happening in this room because no one outside of the list had bothered to enter. Patrick wondered how long he'd been the label’s central piece of gossip before figuring he'd really rather not know.

"So, who's had what and where do you want me?" Gabe asked, pulling Patrick onto the bed. Patrick looked over to the clock and saw that it was creeping into the early hours. Three-thirty was apparently the moment of death, though Patrick had no clue over how that information was discovered. They really needed to get a move on.

"Travie got me first and then Bill joined in and they, you know..." Patrick quickly looked away as Gabe snickered against his shoulder. "Then Butch Walker bent me over a table. There was Jon too, and a few cocks sucked between them all."

 _"Jon Walker?"_ Gabe threw his head back and laughed. It was only pity for the bassist that had Patrick keeping quiet about his lack of stamina. "But that's it. Only three in the ass?"

"Well, Nate fingered me too, but it got a little weird so we stopped," Patrick said and then threw a hand over his face and fell into Saporta's shoulder. "This is not my fucking life."

"Pete's not one of them? I thought it was just the world ending making him pissy, but maybe not," Gabe said. As Patrick laid against him, he again felt a sadness that this wouldn't happen again. He'd never feel his friend, platonic or otherwise, hug him like this.

"Pete's fucked me over with more people than I've fucked tonight, so." Patrick licked his lips, and the quick slam of his heart against his chest was enough to suggest he maybe wasn't as over it as he thought.

Gabe had nice hands, and his mouth was put to better use when his tongue was sliding between Patrick's lips. Patrick figured he'd be a talker, but mostly he just got very physical.

Patrick wasn't as tight as he'd started the night, nor was he as willing to move around. His ass hurt and his jaw was sore and his thighs were tightening too. He had bruises everywhere and even his dick wasn't really up to all that. If it had ever been his dream to get into gay porn, he was fairly certain he'd suck at it.

"You have the softest skin, Stump," Gabe said, sliding his fingers beneath Patrick's shirt, digging into his belly. Compliments like that were good, and he lifted his hips up so that they rocked up to Gabe's stomach.

"Okay, you can fuck me, but be gentle about it. I'm not a huge slut," Patrick said, ignoring how wrong he'd proven that statement so far.

"A little slut, but I love it." Gabe’s mouth had a wry pull at the corners. Patrick kissed it away and caught Gabe’s laughter between his own lips.

"Yeah, okay." Patrick smiled and out of everyone that night, he felt the most comfortable with Gabe. He was an idiot and his jokes only came off about three-quarters of the time, but he felt good under Patrick's hands. "Make it good."

"When don't I?" It didn't take long for Patrick to get Gabe out of enough clothes to make things easier. Patrick hadn’t been naked all night, kept his shirt on the entire time. He didn’t fancy changing it up now either. He crawled over Gabe until he was sprawled on top, resting his weight down on his friend.

"You gonna let me in here? " Gabe said, tapping Patrick's ass. It was so incredibly lame that Patrick couldn't help but roll his eyes. He wasn't sure he deserved the slap on the cheek he got for that comment. He slapped Gabe back, putting more effort into it and then clawed a hand through his dark hair.

"I'm not gonna be your little bitch, if that's what you're expecting," Patrick spat, sitting back and rocking his hips. Patrick knew a thing or two about a hard dick beneath his ass, knew how to keep it interested for a time. Gabe was similar enough to Pete that Patrick knew he wouldn't be difficult.

"I wouldn't want you like that, chill." Gabe was all smiles again, warm hands sliding up. He looked to be debating his options and Patrick watched him mentally work things out, falling onto the bed beside him, spreading his thighs. Gabe rolled down the bed, hands sliding over Patrick's crotch. On that night alone, Patrick decided he loved large hands, it was something new that he wished he’d had more time to experience.

Gabe took his time. He made it seem a lot less like he'd been listed as a wanted dildo in a Patrick gangbang and more like they'd decided to do this on their own time. He had Patrick bending his legs up as his mouth slid to the back of his knees, dark eyes lidded as he bent down, sucking Patrick into his mouth. Patrick had held back his mouthiness with others, but he tried to fuel Gabe on further, shouting and gasping, hissing when he didn't like what Gabe did. No one had sucked him like that in a long while. He practically had to beg Pete to look eager about going down on him.

"Okay, fuck, easy," Patrick said, when Gabe's fingers started to prod at an already well-prodded area. He was sore and irritated and even though this was the last one - the last cock - it was a big one and they were going to have to be gentle. "Use your tongue."

Gabe sat up and grabbed at Patrick's waist, flipping him over. Patrick said nothing about how that made him feel; being moved so easily. He had a small frame but a lot of meat on it and not many could flip him easy. Not these days, but twice in one night had him fluttering inside.

Patrick backed up when he felt the hot puffs of Gabe's breath against his spine. Okay, that was good. He'd gone the whole night without getting eaten out and that was _wrong_. Totally unacceptable. William didn’t count because Patrick had a dick in him at that point.

"You'll fucking love this," Gabe said, teeth closing down on the plump skin of Patrick's ass cheek. Patrick fell smoothly down, wrists sliding on the covers until he was arched like a cat mid-stretch. Gabe had a firm hold of his ass and could do whatever he wanted so long as his tongue was squirming its way inside.

Gabe moved his hands, tongue sliding down Patrick's cleft and then up again, nipping at the taut skin of Patrick's tailbone. It hurt, but Patrick's grunt at the sensation just had him rocking his hips down. His tongue was wet, lathing over the bite mark before his lips trailed down against his parted skin. Gabe made slow work of it and swirled his tongue against Patrick's rim, not pressing in, but slicking the skin. Patrick was twitching and squirming, so ready for the moment Gabe's slick tongue broke through. He took his time though, circling and circling, Patrick could feel spit dripping from his cleft to between his legs; could hear Gabe's moans and the wet sound of his mouth and his own shuddering gasps when fucking finally, Gabe drove in deep, flat plane of his tongue resting against his shuddering hole, catching the curve of it before sliding in. The slide wasn't hard, Patrick was pretty open, well-fucked, but ready for more as he grabbed a hold of Gabe's hair – kinda hard to do from his position – and rocked back. He could've done with a hand on his dick; he'd have lost his balance jerking himself and Gabe was focused on keeping Patrick as spread as possible.

"You can just keep doing this," Patrick said when he was able to. Around and around Gabe's tongue slid, poking inside and dragging tight. Occassionaly he'd nip lightly at Patrick's rim, making Patrick yelp and try and pull away but then he'd be circling again, eating Patrick out in the best way.

"Nah," Gabe said, pulling away. Patrick didn't turn around; didn’t want to. He felt wet, could feel how he was dripping with Gabe's spit and it should've been gross, but it was mostly hot. He played with his cock for a while, hearing the sound of Gabe squirting lube onto the palm of his hand. Patrick was content to let it happen; however it happened, until he felt Gabe tower over him from behind. "Oh, dude. You're so fucking tiny, let me see how this works."

Patrick still didn't move, feeling Gabe's hands pushing his thighs further apart. At one point, he was certain Gabe was going to just bend him over and fuck him on all fours, but then there was an arm sliding over his belly and an hot mouth on the side of his neck.

"You're gonna have to ride me, that cool?" he said, but then he was pulling on Patrick, tugging him back. Patrick fell clumsily, but found he'd sort of lost his voice. Gabe sat back against the headboard and Patrick blinked down at his dick.

"You're not wearing a condom," Patrick said, because that was rule. That was definitely to be a rule with Gabe because he was far from celibate and fucked around with everyone he could.

"Yeah, but we're gonna be dead in less than three hours. If hypothetically I was diseased, it wouldn't affect you, would it?" It was disgusting, but he had point. And maybe Patrick could tell Pete afterward, about how he let Gabe fuck him bareback. He wondered what his reaction would be. It’d be way worse than mentioning Butch using the pull-out method.

"I guess not." Patrick was still hesitating, but Gabe’s cock was appetizing. He was thick, cut, and just long enough that Patrick knew he'd be gasping and babbling for it. He didn't want to waste time and so he scooted back, facing away from Gabe, going slow until Patrick could feel the slick head of Gabe's erection beneath his ass. Gabe held his cock, fingers pressing to Patrick's ass; holding him open as he guided his cock inside.

"You alright to just take it?" Gabe said, but Patrick couldn't respond. There was a lack of control he was fighting, despite the fact he was in the more controlling position. He tried to breath through his failing composure, but he was slipping and he was falling right down onto Gabe's cock. "Okay, you just took it."

"Fuck," Patrick said. It was too much after _too much_ dick already. He laid back-to-chest, head nestled under Gabe's chin. It was cozy and it was intimate and Patrick had an ass full of dick and he didn't know what to do about it. "You have a big dick."

"You have a tight ass, surprisingly," Gabe muttered. Patrick laughed even though it made Gabe's cock twitch at the clench. Gabe had used enough slick and spit that Patrick felt comfortable enough to rise. When Gabe bent his legs, Patrick discovered they were at the perfect level for him to brace himself on.

Patrick wondered if it was sexy at all from Gabe's position. Patrick was bouncing slowly, getting used to it again. He had to wriggle a little, so he was on his knees, back arched; shoulders and ass pointing directly at Gabe. It would've been sexier on someone _actually_ sexy, but Gabe's cock was hard and Patrick knew he had an alright ass. It was probably a better angle than if he was facing his friend.

Gabe's hands were sliding up and down Patrick's back, helping him move. They were sweating and Patrick was exhausted, but still the thrill in his stomach was building. It all felt good, the feeling of a cock sliding against his slick ass, never pulling out all the way, but nudging against his prostate and making him shudder. Patrick’s toes had curled up tight and his fingers were digging tight into Gabe’s knees.

Patrick came first, Gabe’s hand rocking down over his cock, catching his spill between long thin fingers. It didn't take Gabe long after that and it was on a hard, downward thrust that he let out a tight shout and Patrick _almost_ felt him come, wet and hot inside his own asshole.

"If Pete wasn't in the picture you know I'd totally go for you right," Gabe said when Patrick rolled off him, falling face first into the pillows. He could have done without that comment, but he tried to answer nicely.

"If impending death wasn’t coming I'd mention that I think I'm more of less done with the Pete shit." He blinked the sweat from his eyes and stared at Gabe, feeling the gross trickle of jizz between his legs.

"You always work it out." Gabe puffed his cheeks, but then rolled over until they were face to face. Patrick patted his cheek, pressing their noses together.

"And then he meets someone else for a month and it falls apart again." Patrick rolled his cheek against Gabe's shoulder. He was so so sore and he wanted to curl up and not exist for a time. Not forever, just a while. "I'm done with that shit."

"I'm not sure about that," Gabe said as if he knew anything. Patrick pressed his lips together and didn't respond. He wasn't sad exactly, but numb to everything that was about to happen. Maybe there was a ton of missed opportunities that he’d never taken, but he couldn’t see how dating Gabe would end up any better than dating Pete. Neither would ever commit.

"I'm gonna get cleaned up," Patrick said, standing up from the bed. He kept his back to Gabe as he left the room. It was a shitty way to end things, but he wasn't sure what else to say.

Patrick washed up and looked at himself briefly in the mirror. His hair was flat and his cheeks hadn't lost the rosy hue all night. He did look well fucked. The only fucked thing of the night. Patrick was the whore of Decaydance. It had him laughing hysterically, holding onto the basin as he gained his slipping composure.

Pete found Patrick much later, when he had no one else left to fuck or please, and was left to simply rest it out in the darkness of the guest room. If he was anyone else, he'd probably have joined the party with nothing else left to lose, but he was Patrick Stump and he was tired and sore.

"Go away," Patrick said, when Pete started to fuss around him, pulling at his shirt and wiping him down with a cloth. He'd probably make a great father; a feat he'd surprisingly gone without achieving. "Why are you here?"

"Shut it, asshole," Pete responded curtly, before throwing one of Patrick's old shirts at him. Patrick put it on with limited effort and then flopped back down onto the bed again. Pete launched himself on the bed, greasy head thudding against Patrick's shoulder. "You spread your legs to everyone tonight and I didn't even get any."

"Yeah, well," Patrick shrugged and looked around, not really in the mood to play games. "Now you know what it feels like."

"Don't be like that," Pete said, and flopped an arm over Patrick's waist. "You feelin alright?"

"Sore, kinda used, but at least I know it won't last." Patrick scrunched his nose up. He only took it from four people and Jon hardly even got it in, he wished he had another chance. "We're all gonna be dead when we wake up."

"Yup. S'why I wanted to find you, I figured even if you hate me right now, you still wouldn't want to go without me here."

"I don't hate you," Patrick asserted. "I just hate the way I let you treat me and so I take it out passive aggressively by being a dick."

"And then you suck my dick," Pete said, because he knew the pattern just as well. Neither of them particularly wanted to quit the cycle, it'd be going on enough years to figure that out.

"Uhuh, but not today, my jaw aches." Patrick flopped over onto his side, so that he could stare at Pete nose to nose. It felt sort of normal, like it was the natural thing to do. "So many things suck about this. All those new songs we wrote that we won't get to play. Plus, I never got to see Prince live."

"Prince is a douchebag, he'd probably let you down live." Pete put on his best soothing voice and Patrick laughed, looking up at him from behind his slowly fluttering eyelashes.

"Prince wouldn’t do that to me." Patrick shook his head. "Also, I don't hate you, I know that you know that I don't, but I should tell you anyway."

"Thanks for telling me." Pete smiled and all those teeth up close was a bit much for Patrick, so he shut his eyes tight. "I never meant to hurt you or anything. You were always the best anyway. It’s why I always came back."

"Don't." Patrick didn't want to play anymore because it was making his chest sink and his stomach twist. It was why he always preferred to let Pete come in and out of his bed instead of questioning it. He never wanted to know the truth, good or bad.

They laid for a long while. Pete would kiss Patrick occasionally; on the cheek, on the neck and sometimes the mouth. Patrick would open his mouth slightly and Pete's tongue would seek out the damp heat between Patrick's lips, but then they would stop and Patrick would almost fall asleep again. The party was still loud and throbbing, but Patrick didn’t want to go anywhere or be with anyone else.

Patrick must’ve fallen asleep at some point because he awoke to the early dawn filtering through the unblinded windows. Pete was asleep next to him, fingers wrapped over Patrick's wrist but breathing soundly. It was five-thirty according to the clock on the nightstand. Way past their would-be death. Patrick shifted his legs from where they were bunched up and winced at the sensation between his legs. Definitely still alive then, he rubbed at his jaw and that hurt pretty bad too.

He stared at Pete sleeping some more, because well, the world had insisted they’d be dead by three AM and they were a good couple of hours past that. He slapped Pete on the cheek, watching him stir awake carefully.

"We're not dead," Patrick said, when Pete's bleary eyes landed on him. "We're supposed to be dead."

"Well, thank fuck for that," Pete grumbled, rubbing at his eyes before staring at Patrick cautiously. "You sure this isn't like purgatory?"

"This is your house and I feel like I got gangbanged last night." Patrick strained his ears for the sound of movement. "And I can hear talking from downstairs."

"I have never been more grateful to be alive," Pete laughed, pushing his hair out of his face before pulling Patrick down beside him. "Dude, if we really didn’t die that means you got gangbanged by my guys for, like, no reason."

"Technically, most of them said they would've banged me anyway," Patrick said, trying to save face and not think about the horrifying moment where he'll have to face all those guys again. He is _never_ working with Butch again.

"Of course they all wanted you, you're the cute one with the nice ass," Pete said, like he was trying to be nice. "Plus all the guys on the label want you to produce for them. I think they like you more than me.”

Patrick's heart swelled at that. He never really thought people cared too much about his skills or relevancy outside of Pete. Sometimes he'd chalk it up to shitty self esteem, but it wasn’t a lie and it was cool to feel appreciated outside of his relationship with Pete.

"Yeah. I think I might just stay here for a few months, so I don't have to communicate with anyone." Patrick did want to see his family, and Joe and Andy, but no one else. No one whose dick he sucked or anyone related to what went on in Casa de Wentz.

"Maybe things will be different now. I faced death and now I know what I want. You're the only one for me, Patty. Don't need no one else." Pete said it so casual that Patrick was almost willing to believe him. He watched, touching a hand to Pete's mouth before dropping it.

"For the next month," Patrick laughed, tucking his fingers beneath his chin once more. "Maybe we'll last longer this time."

"Promise I will," Pete said, and Patrick was content to just pretend it was the truth. He was too tired to do anything but lay beside his best friend and let the world wake back to life again.


End file.
